


Hold Your Breath

by naasad



Series: Prompts [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman Beyond, Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: AU, Accidents, Angst, Break Up, Death of a pet, First Kiss, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Islamophobia, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Misunderstandings, Muslim!Damian, Occupational Hazard - Freeform, Perceived Break-Up, Racism Off-Screen, Tags to be added, Things Said In Anger, Wakes & Funerals, ch4 is pure crack, implied/referenced PTSD, sometimes, then comes your regularly scheduled programming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-05-30 13:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15097706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naasad/pseuds/naasad
Summary: Angst prompts fromhere





	1. I Thought You Said You Loved Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Damian is 33 and Jon is 30.

Jon rocketed through the atmosphere, hoping Batman's message had been wrong. "Damian!" he shouted as he approached his fiance's heartbeat. He growled at the snow all around, sticking in his eyelashes and blocking his vision. He finally gave up and set down on the mountains "Damian!"

"Gods above, no need to shout."

Jon whirled around to see that same beautiful face he'd been waking up to for the last fourteen years. "All your stuff is gone."

Damian clicked his tongue. "Some would call that a hint."

Jon blinked in shock. "You're really going back to the League?"

Damian adjusted his pack over his shoulder. "There's nothing for me elsewhere."

"But - "

"Close your mouth before you start catching flies." Damian started walking again.

"Just talk to me," Jon pled, following. "You'll always have me, you have to know that."

Damian stopped and turned. "I will be Ra's al Ghul. Ra's al Ghul has no one. This is how it was always going to be."

"But I thought you said you loved me?"

Damian stared evenly, the steady beat of his heart did not waver. "You mean nothing to me."

Jon felt his heart shatter on the cold stone.

"My mission always comes first. And right now, I have a League to reform. Now, leave, Kent. Go back to Metropolis and give your foolish heart to some other man. Or better, keep it to yourself."

"I can't," Jon said quietly. "It's a gift. If you give it back, Alfred will be angry with you." He twisted the ring on his left hand, then floated upwards. "I will always love you, Damian. If you - if you change your mind, you know." He swallowed thickly and flew off, furiously wiping his eyes.

Damian turned back up the mountain, forcing his heartbeat to remain routine, even as his tears froze on his cheeks.


	2. I Wish I'd Never Met You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did math for this, I hope y'all are happy. Damian is 14, Jon is 11. 
> 
> **Major Character Death**

"Superboy!"

As the dust began to settle, Robin ran through the streets and the debris, looking for his friend.

"Superboy!" He growled and stopped a hacking civilian with a firm grip on their elbow. "Where is Superboy?"

They shook their head.

Damian snarled and continued looking. "Jon!" he shouted once he was reasonably sure he was alone.

A weak cough came from his left.

He scrambled over the chunks of building, looking for his frie - partner. His partner.

_"Jon!"_

He searched for hours, partnering with the emergency workers, waiting for Superman to come rescue his son. Surely he could hear?

Unless, of course, Jon was already at home, in which case, they would be having a serious discussion about sticking around for mission debriefing.

Jon was still missing long after the sun had gone down.

Finally, a worried Superman and Batman came to the site.

Damian leapt on Clark with a snarl, knife held tightly in his hand. "Where is he?"

"Robin!" Bruce wrapped his arms around his son and lifted him in the air.

_"Where is he?!"_

"He's not with you?" Clark turned and looked around, stretching his x-ray vision as far as it would go. Suddenly, he took off like a shot, flinging rubble in the air as he dug and finally lifted his son's body out of the ground.

"Superboy!" Damian kicked Bruce in the chest and ran to his friend, pulling up short when he recognized the look on Clark's face, how rigidly Jon laid when - if unconscious - he should have been boneless. "No."

Bruce stiffened and set a hand on Damian's shoulder before moving to comfort Clark. He knew what it meant to lose a son.

"This is your fault!" Damian snarled, rounding on the Kryptonian. "Why didn't you hear? Why didn't you come?"

"Robin," Bruce said gently. He squeezed Clark's shoulder then knelt in front of Damian and pulled him close.

"Why didn't you come?" Damian wept, wrapping his arms around his father's neck.

The funeral didn't take long to prepare. The hero community and the world were very sympathetic. Bruce Wayne's money helped.

Damian chose not to attend the service. Being surrounded with photographs of Jon's smiling face, the cloying scent of flowers thick upon the air, and his body in the open casket.... It was too much.

Days later, he brought Krypto to see his master's grave.

As the dog whined pitifully and curled on top of the earth, Damian scoffed and knelt beside the headstone.

"I wish I'd never met you," he spat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, apparently, the way Superman most likely breathes in space is photosynthesis, so if you put a Kryptonian in a small dark place with no oxygen, they'll still suffocate.


	3. I Thought You Were Better Than That

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kids will say the cruelest things. Damian is 16, Jon is 13.

Jon groaned as his back hit the floor for the thirtieth time in an hour then hopped back up, spitting mad.

Damian smirked. "And I win again. I thought you were better than that."

Jon growled and charged, only to have his momentum flipped on him, sending him crashing head-first into a wall.

Damian tsked and made an impatient gesture. "Come on, corncob, prove yourself."

"Look, some of us didn't spend our entire lives training to kill people," Jon snapped.

Damian's face shuttered, his easy smile immediately replaced with a scowl.

"I don't know, maybe that means you should go easy on me before you kill me, too. Just one more tally, right? Do you even remember-" Jon felt his air supply abruptly cut off, his body slammed into the wall again.

"I'm only going to say this once," Damian said, "so you better be listening. I _remember_ all of them. I don't have the luxury of forgetting - of protecting myself from a decade of abuse - because if I do, I risk becoming that person again. No one gets to devalue that sacrifice, nor all the work I've put toward not being that anymore. Not even you." He dropped Jon and took a step back. "I know my worth."

Jon rubbed his throat and sat on the floor.

Damian remained standing, chest heaving.

"I'm sorry," Jon said.

Damian sighed and sat next to him. "You are forgiven. Don't do it again."

Jon reached and passed him a bottle of water. "I won't. I was being stupid."

Damian smirked. "On that, we agree."

Jon laughed and knocked their shoulders together. Damian smiled, wrapped an arm around him, and held him close, letting him drop his head on his shoulder.

"Sometimes," Jon said, "sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if our places were switched. I told myself I would rather die than kill, and then I realized that's what would've happened."

Damian's arm tightened around him, as if he could protect him from that imaginary reality.

Jon looked up. "I'm okay with that, but it's scary."

Damian took a swig of water, then put it aside, pulling Jon closer to his side. "Yes, it was. You get used to the fear though, you learn to turn it into ambition instead. Or anger. And, yes, you wouldn't have killed and you would have died. That still makes you a better person than me."

"You were a kid," Jon said. "You're still a kid. And besides, if that had happened to you, I never would have met you."

Damian smiled sourly and rubbed his shoulder. "You really never should have met me. I died, remember? I've already lived my life, I shouldn't even be here - "

Quick as lightning, Jon cupped his jaw with one hand and pressed his lips to his friend's open mouth. After a moment, he recoiled, eyes wide, biting his lip as if he couldn't believe he'd done that.

Damian stared in shock. "Well, then," he said, reaching up to lace his fingers with those still on his face. "Maybe we wait to do that again until we're a little older. Your father really will kill me." His eyes sparkled and he pressed a kiss to Jon's palm.

Jon shook his head in wonder and leaned up to kiss Damian's brow. "I like you here," he said shyly, ducking under his bangs.

Damian smiled and smoothed the hair away from his face. "I like being here, too."


	4. I'm So Sorry, There Was Nothing Else I Could Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this one's not angst at all. It's like... the opposite of angst. Crack. It's crack.
> 
> Damian is 14, Jon is 11.

"I'm so sorry," Todd said, as he and Dr. Thompkins exited the infirmary. "There was nothing else we could do."

Damian's eyes went wide and he rushed through the doors, just hoping his friend was still alive.

"Are you okay?" Jon asked as he paused in whatever he was doing.

Grayson also turned to look.

Damian cleared his throat and stood straight. "If you must know, Todd heavily implied the two of you were dead or dying."

Dick and Jon burst into giggles.

"Dying of fun!" Dick cheered, holding up a picture.

But, no, it couldn't be...

Todd was right...

It could be the only explanation...

For this... **_monstrosity_ _:_**

Damian paled and fled the room.

Todd stood across the hall, shaking his head.

"You've tried everything? Are you sure?" Damian demanded.

"I'm sorry," Todd said, clutching his mask to his heart. "It's terminal."

Doctor Thompkins threw her hands in the air and walked off to find Bruce. "You Bats! So dramatic!"

Jason and Damian gaped at her in horror. Honestly, the two were dying, couldn't she see?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It physically hurt to draw like this after so many years of training myself not to.


	5. I Didn't Mean To! It Was An Accident, I Swear!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cat will die in this chapter. (Not Alfred the Cat.)
> 
> Jon is 9 and Damian is 12, barely back from the dead - without powers, but doesn't know Dick is alive.

Desdemona purred as she rubbed up against Damian's leg, and the boy smiled and lifted her up, rubbing his cheek against her fur. "What would I do without you?" he asked. He sighed and settled a hand between her shoulder blades, continuing to paint with the other.

Master and cat sat in silence for a long while before Desdemona grew impatient and sauntered off his lap and into the grass.

Damian's phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it. He had no use for Superman, nor his spawn. He returned to his painting, pausing to add the beautiful Northern Goshawk that had just sailed into his view.

Goshawk?

The villain screamed and dove for the grass.

"No!" Damian called, rushing.

The bird already had Desdemona in its claws, and Damian was almost there - almost there -

Out of nowhere, a laser flashed, incinerating the small kitten.

The goshawk squawked in confusion and flapped off.

"No!" Damian knelt by the remains of his pet and turned to see that idiot half-breed. "What did you do?!"

"I'm sorry!" Jon screeched, tears pouring down his cheeks. "I didn't mean to! It was an accident, I swear!"

"An accident?" Damian spat.

"I was aiming for the hawk!"

Damian felt the fight leave him then, and he turned back to the ashes, trying desperately not to show any weakness. "My brother gave her to me. She was one of the last things I had of him."

Blessedly, there was silence for a moment, then suddenly, arms were around him, squeezing the breath out of his lungs.

"Get off!" Damian yelled, shoving as hard as he possibly could. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I was just giving you a hug!"

Damian snarled and stalked off to pack up his things. "You should learn to control yourself - before you kill someone else."

Jon wrapped his arms around his chest. "I'm sorry."

"Save it," Damian spat, wandering back to the Manor. As soon as he stepped foot on the patio, he burst into a run, slamming the door and racing to his room. He set his art supplies in their place and faceplanted in his bed, finally allowing himself to sob.

Alfred the Cat hopped up and nuzzled his face.

"Go away," Damian hiccupped, simultaneously pulling the cat close. "Desdemona's gone. She's not coming back. Just like Grayson."

After a moment, there was a knock on the door.

"Go away!"

"I'm sorry!" came the voice of the young Kryptonian. "What can I do?"

Damian reached under his pillow for his knife and threw it at the door. "You can go away!" He took deep, shaky breaths, trying to calm himself and smother his face in Alfred's fur. "Go back to Kansas!"

He wished Grayson were here.

The doorknob turned and he reached for another knife, deciding not to throw it when a light weight settled by his foot.

"I'm sorry," the boy said, sounding so guilt-ridden it made Damian miss Dick even more. "I'm really sorry."

Damian kicked him in the thigh with all his strength.

"Ow!"

"Aren't you supposed to be invulnerable?" 

"No, I don't have that power yet." He pouted and rubbed at the no-doubt-forming bruise, before sticking out his hand to shake. "I'm Jon."

"Good for you." Damian turned back to Alfred.

"You're supposed to shake it. It's polite."

"Do I look like a polite person to you?" Damian snapped.

Jon shrugged. "Well, yeah."

Damian blinked in shock, staring at the boy, whiter than the bullies he faced at school, and not caring. He reached out a hand to shake and wiped at his face with the sleeve of his other arm. "You need training."

Jon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah...."

Damian sniffed and stood, pausing to grab his sword. "Let's go."

"Now?" Jon asked.

Damian glared at him. **_"Now."_**


	6. Sorry Won't Fix This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damian is 24, Jon is 21, and they're in college.

Jon was quiet as he cleaned off his boyfriend's face.

"You're disturbing me," Damian said, swinging his legs as he sat on the bathroom counter.

Jon tilted his head to the side to get at a particularly nasty cut on his temple.

"Jonathan."

Jon shook his head and put down the washcloth, reaching for the antibiotic cream and bandages.

Damian sighed. "Why can't you just unnecessarily apologize and then be done with it like normal?"

"Because sorry won't fix this!" Jon snapped. "I thought people would be over this by now. If I hadn't mentioned you were praying, this wouldn't have happened."

Damian tangled his fingers with Jon's free hand and held their hands at eye-level - warm umber against freckled tan. "They would have found out eventually. I won't hide in fear when I've done nothing wrong."

Jon snorted and placed the last of the bandages.

Damian maneuvered him between his legs and wrapped his arms around his neck. "Don't forget, I could have easily beaten them to a pulp. I appreciate the anger for me, but I'm not some damsel in distress."

Jon sighed and pressed their lips together. "Can't you accept that I care about you?"

Damian hummed and rubbed his foot up and down the inside of Jon's thigh. "Not when it causes you to hurt yourself."

Jon shook his head but smiled. He kissed him one more time before stepping back to put away the first aid kit.

Damian hopped down from the counter and shrugged his shirt back on. He stooped down to press his forehead to Jon's and wrap a hand around the back of his neck, just existing with him for a moment. "I love you, khutov zhor."

Jon's breath hitched and he nudged their noses together. "I love _you_ , rohi."

Damian gave a pleased rumble and pulled Jon out of the bathroom, falling onto their bed.

"I'm still going to worry," Jon said.

"Hn." Damian trailed kisses from his shoulder to his ear. "I know. I just want you to stop blaming yourself."

Jon threaded his fingers through Damian's hair and tugged gently, guiding his head so he could kiss him thoroughly, just barely pressing his tongue inside before retreating. "I can try."

Damian brought his hands up to clutch at Jon's shoulders and kissed his jaw and then his lips. He pulled back a moment to stare in wonder, fingertips stroking up and down his spine.

Jon shivered, staring back with equal awe.

Damian shook his head, exhaling. "I love you, so much."

"Love you, too," Jon said, stroking his ribs. He leaned up to kiss Damian again. "Next time, just beat them up."

Damian laughed against his lips. "That's the first time I've ever heard _that_."

Jon grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wouldn't freaking end, so I apologize if it's wonky.
> 
> Khutov zhor - my heart (Kryptonian)  
> Rohi - my soulmate (Arabic)


	7. I Should Have Seen This Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damian is 24, Jon is 21, they live together in Metropolis. Damian is still Robin, but he'll take over Batman once he's done with college.

Damian felt the tension the moment he entered the room and tried so hard to control his breathing and heartbeat. He blinked twice and took a couple deep breaths before hanging up his keys and briefcase and heading to the kitchen to get it over with.

Jon was slowly, steadily washing the dishes, staring out the kitchen window.

Jon never did anything slowly or steadily.

Damian snuck around the kitchen as quietly as possible, sneaking a glass of water before sitting on the other side of the island. Not that it would make much difference. "Is...," he cleared his throat, pushing down this irrational fear. "Is everything alright?"

"Hm?" Jon asked, turning around. "Yeah, everything's fine."

"Are you sure? There's nothing I can do?"

"Yeah, why?"

Damian flinched at the blunt tone, then shrugged. "No reason." He quickly finished his water and risked setting it beside the counter. He licked his lips nervously. "I'm headed back to Gotham for the evening."

"Okay," Jon said, leaning up for a kiss. "Have fun. Kick some bad guy ass."

Damian chuckled, forced, and left, driving away. He'd come back later and see if Jon's anger had abated.

He made his way to the center of the city, trying to figure out what he'd done.

When he returned, Jon was asleep, so he crawled into bed as carefully as possible. When he mumbled in his sleep and pulled him close, Damian tried very hard to keep himself still.

By the time Jon awoke, he would be gone.

During class, he got a text - _hey, did u come home last nite_ \- and he took a deep, regulatory breath before typing out a response to the accusation, what he thought Jon would want to hear.

 _No, sorry. Patrol was hell. I'll most likely be staying tonight as well_.

That night turned into the next, and the next, and the next.

Grayson pulled him aside one moment during patrol. "Is everything alright?" Batman asked.

Damian knew better than to lie to Batman, he was not nearly so skilled as Drake, but he couldn't quite figure out how to say 'my boyfriend's upset at me and I don't know why so I'm hiding here until I can figure it out' without painting himself as severely emotionally compromised, so he did anyway. "Yes, of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

Miraculously, Grayson bought it.

Of course, his ruse couldn't carry for very long. Once Jon decided to ask Batman if they could use his help with 'whatever big is going down over there' and Grayson unhelpfully replied 'what big thing?', Jon flew over immediately.

"What is going on with you?" he demanded.

Damian schooled his body with the ease of decades of practice. "I don't understand."

"All of this!" Jon waved his hands in the air. "The lying, the sneaking...." He stopped in his tracks. "Damian, are you cheating on me?"

Damian stared for a long while, unable to tell what the hell Jon wanted him to say to that. Would he even believe the truth? "Yes," he lied.

Jon laughed humorlessly and yanked a hand through his shaggy hair. "I should've seen this coming." He shook his head. "I'm just a farm boy from Kansas."

No, Damian wanted to say, no, you're the love of my life. But he could tell Jon didn't want to hear that.

Jon scoffed and took off into the air. "Goodbye, Damian. I hope he makes you happy."

Damian slid down to the floor and closed his eyes. He would not let himself sob. It was unbecoming.

When Jon told the rest, the hero community collectively shunned him, all except Drake, the all-knowing Augur.

He shut down his computers, took off the prosthetic arm and eye, running his fingertips over his plastic jaw and crooked cheekbone. The explosion had taken so much, not just their father's life. Modern medicine could do quite a bit, but nothing in the multiverse could get him back in the field after that.

"I know you lied," he said, voice coming out electronic - a gift from Cyborg. "What I don't know is why."

Damian schooled his breathing, barely, then let it go, safe in the lead-lined walls of the Keep. "He was angry with me. I didn't know why. So I gave him his space, said what he wanted to hear or what he would believe."

Tim tilted his head. "How did you know he was angry?"

Damian closed his eyes and begged for understanding. "He was washing the dishes."

Miraculously, Tim nodded.

"I know he would not hurt me," Damian said, it all pouring out in a rush. "It could have been a misunderstanding, but I couldn't risk it, so I just... I was just going to stay in Gotham until I was sure he was no longer angry. Then he came and confronted me and I - "

Drake put his hand on his shoulder, and Damian tipped over and cried.

Tim rubbed his back, looking as sad as he could with the little expressiveness he had. "Do you want him to know?"

Damian shook his head. "No." He sniffed and wiped at his eyes. "No, let him - let him think ill of me. He'll just beat himself up if he knew the truth."

"If you didn't want me knowing the truth, you shouldn't have left the window open."

Damian looked up just in time to see Superboy float through.

"Oops," Drake said, looking contrite enough Damian believed it was an accident. He quickly made himself scarce.

Jon knelt in front of Damian and took his hands. "I love you," he said, "so I don't know if I can get past the lying. But I'm glad you weren't cheating on me and... and I wasn't mad at you, Dami. I don't know what I did to make you think that, but I wasn't."

Damian sobbed.

Jon held him close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd been waiting to write perceived break-up. >:D I usually don't write dubious endings on purpose, but this one, I felt it was appropriate. If you want to write an ending, or even just something about the future events I mention in this fic, please do! Just link back to here, and if you post it on Tumblr, tag me! :D I'm now @grumpymurdernerd (props if you get the reference)


End file.
